


Deviant

by fraaannnkkk



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Frerard, M/M, X-men - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:45:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraaannnkkk/pseuds/fraaannnkkk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero is born into a non-mutant family. He grows up like any normal child, until he starts to realize what he can do. He is curious about his new abilities, but his parents are wary. He becomes too much to handle. He has needs his parents can't fulfill. Feeling it's for the best, Frank's parents send him away to what seems like a friendly institution for fellow Mutants, which actually turns out to be a Mutant's worst nightmare. Trapped, tortured, and unable to go home, Frank spends 8 years being poked and prodded. Just when all hope seems to have vanished, a light rescues him from the darkness that is the Mutant holocaust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Darkness

98 days. It has been 98 days and counting of being locked here in the darkness among my friends. A pang of nausea rips through my body at the realization, but I don't make a sound. I've been silent for so long I don't even think I can. I shift my head to the right, and my nose brushes someone's arm next to me. They don't stir. Dead, and I assume I'm not too far behind. 

I can't remember the last time I opened my eyes. Maybe I have before, but it was too dark to tell. Its easy to forget about the existence of light in here. I shift my head back to a more comfortable position and immediately regret the decision. My head swims, and the feeling travels directly down to my empty stomach. My body realizes there's nothing to throw up and starts to tremble. I feel my lungs starting to reject air, and my chest feels like it might cave in. Almost immediately, I know what's happening; I'm dying. Darkness starts to claw away at my skin and I think of home. I think of my parents, and how they sent me here when I was only 9 years old. I think of how they'll never see their baby boy again. The darkness is a weight on my chest now, and I let it come. I sink back into the far corners of my mind and await my demise. 

Suddenly, a light erupts on the back of my eyelids. I try to turn away from it, but I don't have the strength. The atmosphere in the room shifts, and I feel air returning to my lungs. I take it in greedily.

"This one's alive!" I hear a voice above me say. I try to call out, to warn them about how dangerous it is to be here, but I succumb to darkness just as I feel myself being lifted by shaking hands.


	2. Pencey Prep

The darkness is swallowing what little light is left in the corridor, but I keep running. I pass rooms filled with dark faces, and tools I know all too well. I see a pair of doors ahead, and I run faster despite my protesting legs. Stumbling over invisible objects, I crash through the doors that slam shut behind me. I'm met with more darkness, and hushed voices. A beam of light slices through the black and illuminates a silver table perched in the center of the room. I stagger backwards, and fall into unknown hands as the voices get louder. "Frank!" A voice shouts, and I sit bolt upright in bed, scream still on my lips.

"Frank! Hey, it's okay. It's just me." My vacant eyes start to focus on the familiar hand on my shoulder.

"Bob?" I ask as my eyes sweep over my room. No silver tables, no tools, no darkness. Safe.

"Yeah. Nightmares again? You look like shit." I lean back against my pillow and breathe a sigh of relief.

"Yeah," I manage to choke out, "Sorry I didn't have time to put on my face for you, I was too busy fighting off the demons inside my head." The statement was meant as a harmless joke, but I look up to find a very sympathetic Bob.

"What? I'm fine." I insist. Bob's not convinced.

"Whatever. You just gonna lay there all day, or are you actually gonna show up to class?" I look at the clock. 30 minutes till first period.

"Shit." I grumble as I fly out of bed, rummaging through my drawers to find something to wear. I slip on the first t-shirt I find, and stumble into the bathroom while pulling on my pants.

Bob chuckles as I fuss with my hair. "You're such a girl."

"Bite me." I say as I shove my toothbrush in my mouth.

"Kinky, but I'll pass." I flip Bob off as I emerge from the bathroom, toothbrush still hanging out of my mouth. I start shoving the essentials into my backpack when I hear Bob scoff.

I freeze. "What?"

"Do you even know what day it is?" He says.

"Umm... Monday?" I say incredulously.

"Man, that nightmare must have kicked your ass. It's your fucking birthday, dude." He laughs. The realization hits me like a truck, and I almost choke on my toothbrush. I quickly run into the bathroom and rinse my mouth. It's my birthday. I forgot my own fucking birthday.

"Can you make it to class okay, or did you forget where that is as well?"

"I'm fine, dickhead. See ya later." I watch Bob take off down the hallway, and I head in the opposite direction. He shouts a quick "happy birthday, asshole" over his shoulder and turns the corner.

I smile. I'm finally 18.

 

*

   I finally get to class and slide into my seat. Two more minutes and I would've been screwed. The class quiets down as Mr. Ross stands.

 "Good morning students!" We utter good mornings back, and Mr. Ross takes roll. Just as he's about to finish attendance, a kid tries to slip sneakily into the room. He's almost to his seat when Mr. Ross looks up. "Mr. Urie! Glad you could make it today. You're late." 

 Brendon huffs out a sigh of defeat and faces the teacher. "Good morning Mr. Ross, you look good today." He says, a sly grin on his face. 

 Mr. Ross blushes. "Save it. You're tardy. Sit down so I can begin class." Brendon winks at him shamelessly and plops down into his seat. 

 I start jotting things down into my notebook when a hand appears out of nowhere and drops a note into my lap. I turn around to find Ray's elastic arm returning swiftly to his body. I snort and unravel the note: are you excited for training camp?

 I mentally slap myself in the face. It's my birthday. I'm finally of age to go on missions. That thought never crossed my mind this morning, and now that it has I don't know whether to be excited or scared. 

 At Pencey Prep, being able to go on missions is the next big step in a Mutant's life. It means being able to use our gifts for more than just to prank our friends. It's like getting a job for the first time, if that job is saving the Mutant race.

 I scribble down the word "nervous" and pass it back to him. The bell rings shortly after, and we all file into the hallway. Ray jogs to meet up with me.

 "Hey, I forgot to mention earlier. Happy birthday!"

 I smile as Ray over-excitedly shakes my shoulder. "Thanks." I reply.

 I see someone whiz passed us at the speed of light, and I watch as they lurch forward suddenly, ending up on the floor. The hall erupts in laughter, and I look over to see none other than Joe Trohman with his leg still extended out into the middle of the hallway. Joe stoops and offers his hand to Andy Hurley, who laughs despite the embarrassing incident. 

 "They have such a weird friendship." Ray chuckles, shaking his head. "Anyways, I'll catch ya later!" 

 I wave goodbye, and continue down the emptying hallway. I feel something in my chest tighten, and I freeze. My vision goes blurry, and I lean against the wall for support. Panic settles into my veins when I can't take in a full breath of air, and I can't hear anything except my rapidly beating heart. The blurriness starts to subside, but when I look up I'm not at school anymore. I turn around slowly, and I take in a breath so sharply it hurts my rib cage. There, at the end of the corridor, is the same silver table from my nightmares. 

 I turn around and take off down the hallway. The blurriness is back, and my heart is beating so hard I think it might short circuit. I round the corner and slam right into someone. Things clatter onto the floor, and I scoot backwards at the noise.

 "Shit. Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I should've been paying attention." Black hair swims in my vision, and I finally get my eyes to focus on the hazel eyes staring worriedly back down at me.

 "Y-yeah." My voice cracks, and I wonder what I must look like right now. My brain finally reboots, and I struggle onto wobbly knees. "I'm so sorry, here." I gather up the stranger's scattered things, and hand them back to him. He seems to notice my awkwardly trembling hands because he gives me a sympathetic look.

 I try to keep my legs under control as I stand. "I'm Frank." I say, offering him a shy smile. 

 "Gerard." He replies, shrugging his backpack onto his shoulder. A lock of jet black hair falls into his eyes and he carefully swats it away. The late bell interrupts my staring and I jump. 

 "I, um- I'm gonna get to class. See ya around?" I pick up my backpack from where it landed behind me.

 "Yeah, see ya around." He grins and turns the corner. I scurry off to class, forgetting all about the nightmare in the hallway. 

 

 *

Class seems to last a life time after the hallway incident, and its not until I've taken my seat do I realize what had happened. I try not to dwell too deeply into the dark parts of my mind, but that sinking feeling in my heart keeps pulling me down. I tap my pencil, and shift every 4 seconds. I try doodling on my paper, but nothing seems to work. By the end of class I've got a headache and my chest feels too small for my heart, so I run to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face.

I squeeze my eyelids as tight as they will go. Dots and patterns dance in my vision when I reopen them, and I dry my face. I slump into the lunch room, and slide down as silently as possible into my seat. Bob and Ray are having a thrilling discussion about some band, so I take the time to let my eyes wander around the room. Gerard is nowhere to be found. Not that I was looking for him anyway. Instead, I find Pete Wentz trying to impress a girl with the flame he produces in the palm of his hand. Patrick rolls his eyes behind him. 

My creepy staring is interrupted as I hear someone clear their throat. I turn to find both Ray and Bob watching me a little too closely.

"What?" I ask, feeling like I've just been put under a microscope.

"I said, are you alright? You look kind of pale." Ray repeats.

"I'm fine." I say without hesitation. Bob looks unconvinced as usual, and Ray furrows his eyebrows.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Ray asks.

My stomach twists at the thought of food and I wince. "Not hungry." 

They go back to their discussion, but they glance my way every now and then. Soon, lunch is over and we all trudge to our next class.

I walk quickly in the hallways, not wanting to be alone again with just me and my worst nightmares. 

*

The rest of the day goes by excruciatingly slow, and when the bell rings at the end of the last period of the day I bolt out of class. I'm almost to my room when an announcement erupts in the hallway:

"All trainees who are of age, please report to the arena. Thank you."

I wrestle with the lock for a few minutes, and once inside I go straight to my drawers to find something to wear. I'm about to shove a new t-shirt over my head when I catch my reflection in the mirror. The scars decorate my body like tattoos, and I reach up to touch a significantly deep one wrapping around my left shoulder when someone knocks at the door. I shrug on the shirt and let Bob inside. 

He bounces into the room, too excited to sit still. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." I take in a shaky breath, pulling nervously on the collar of my shirt.

"There's nothing to worry about, you're gonna do great." Bob smiles and pats my shoulder, right over the scar. I swallow hard and follow him out of the room.

I sure hope so.   

 


	3. This is how I disappear

I've never been in the arena before, and it must show on my face because Bob chuckles.

"You get used to it." 

I take it all in. Training equipment, obstacle courses, different stations for different specialties, the whole nine yards. We're handed uniforms as we make our way into the gym, and we all file into the locker rooms to get dressed. The uniform is skin tight, but not in an uncomfortable way. It feels safe. Like the clothes I wore before were just hanging there to keep things hidden. 

I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in all black from head to toe, with silver accents lining my sides, legs, and arms. I look badass. 

"Does this uniform make my butt look big?" Bob says, staring at himself quizzically in the mirror. I laugh as Ray appears at my side.

"How cool are these uniforms? They're designed specifically for our abilities. Look." Ray's arm stretches, and the sleeve stretches with it. Bob looks like he just discovered the meaning of life, and they both head out to join the others. 

I stay behind, growing curious as I stare at myself in the mirror. I can feel the atoms inside me buzzing together, waiting for my command. I close my eyes in concentration, and when I open them I'm not there. The uniform has vanished along with me. I smirk as I reappear, and jog up to meet the rest of the class. 

 

*

When I exit the locker room, the class is already huddled together. Three teachers are among them, one of which I recognize as Professor Leto. The group quiets down as the Professor starts to speak.

"Good afternoon Mutants. You all know me as Professor Leto, and this is Dr. Saporta and Mr. Ross." My ears perk up at the last name. I didn't even see Mr. Ross when I came up. "This week we will be going over a variety of things. At the end of the course, you, and your partner we assign you, will be asked to complete an obstacle course to the best of your ability. We will judge you based on your improvement as well as your skills, and that will determine whether you are eligible to go on your first mission." 

The Professor drawls on, and I find myself looking about the room. I see a flustered Patrick over in the far corner, trying to quiet down a very energetic Pete. I see the girl from my Ethics class, Jamia, but everyone calls her Pixie. Shifting my eyes over to the right, I see Brendon whispering to Mr. Ross, who is trying very hard not to listen. 

The Professor ends his speech and starts calling out names. Once he calls your name, he tells you whether to go with Dr. Saporta or Mr. Ross.

I stare at the ceiling waiting for my name, and almost jump out of my skin when Professor Leto tells Gerard to go with Saporta. I peer around the bodies of people and sure enough, there are those unmistakable raven locks heading over to the right side of the arena. My thoughts are interrupted when my name is called next, and I happily follow Gerard. 

We all crowd together at the lips of the mat as Dr. Saporta speaks, "Today is a day to test your skills, and to give us a perspective on your skill level. Each one of you will step up onto the mat, present your power, and then I will create a situation in which you have to think fast to solve." Dr. Saporta gestures behind him to the numerous machines and equipment. "Try your best and you'll be just fine. Whose first?" Of course the first person to step forward is Pete Wentz. He steps onto the mat like he owns it, and faces Dr. Saporta proudly. 

"Pyrokinesis." Pete says before Saporta can even ask.

He thinks for a moment, nods, and then heads over to the piles of equipment and machinery. He pats a significantly large machine. "See this big guy? This guy shoots stuff at your face and you have to act quickly before it hits you." Saporta's grin lights up his whole face, and for a split second, Pete looks intimidated. Pete stares at the metal beast for a moment, and then nods. 

"Tell me when you're ready and I'll press the button." Saporta stands at attention, button in hand. 

Pete takes a deep breath, shrugging back his shoulders. "Ready." 

It happened so fast, I felt the gasp leave my lips before I even processed what happened. Saporta pressed the button, and out of the mouth of the machine came a giant hunk of wood the size of a golf cart. Pete lit up head to toe like a Christmas tree, and the flame that he guided from his shoulder blade, to his arm, and out through his hand roasted the block of wood on the spot. We all stared in awe at the pile of ash that now decorated the mat. 

We all came back to our senses when we heard the slow clapping of Dr. Saporta. "Nice!" Saporta chuckled to himself, taking in the mountain of ash. Pete smiled, but it quickly faded as he felt the liquid that ran from his nose. Saporta must have noticed as well because he beckoned for one of the students to get a chair, and they both helped him into it. Patrick came over with a napkin and helped wipe the blood from his nose.

"This is how you know you're pushing your boundaries. As soon as you get a nosebleed, sit down and let your body cool off. Never try to keep pushing your body after a nosebleed. Some of you will get them often, and some of you won't, but it's totally okay. Respect your body's limits." Saporta whispers something to Patrick, and returns to the center of the mat. 

"Whose next?" 

 

*

Patrick keeps fussing with Pete, but he successfully shoo's him away and Patrick steps onto the mat. He looks absolutely tiny compared to the giant machine in front of him, his white hair and pale skin standing out against his black uniform. Patrick nods his head a little hesitantly at Saporta, who nods back and presses the button. 

Immediately, about ten or fifteen knives shoot out of the mouth of the machine. Patrick's whole body goes rigid, skin morphing into what looks like glass. His right foot shoots forward, creating a stream of ice that strikes out in front of him. His arms jerk upward, commanding the accumulating snow to rise in an ice wall. The knives breach the surface and fall heavily to the floor, the ice too thick to penetrate.  

We all clap in praise, and Patrick returns to Pete's side. My heart does a backflip in my chest as Gerard takes the mat next. "Telepathy and telekinesis." He says shakily, twisting a loose fabric in his uniform.

Saporta looks like he just got handed a giant box of pizza all for him. "What am I thinking?" 

"My mind isn't at full capacity yet, I can only read memories." Gerard looks like someone just pointed out his weight, but Saporta looks enlightened. 

"We can fix that with time. What memory am I thinking of?" 

Gerard concentrates on Saporta's face, like he can see the memory playing like a movie in his irises. He finds what he's looking for and furrows his eyebrows as he speaks. "Whose Sarah and what happened to her?" Gerard looks like he's seeing his face for the first time. 

I've never seen Saporta smile so kindly. "A very important woman who went away a long time ago." Gerard gives him a reassuring smile, a whole conversation passing between them in just one gesture. "Shall we?" 

Dr. Saporta strides back over to the machine, waiting for the go-ahead. Gerard nods his head firmly, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Saporta pushes the button, and a mass of identified objects come hurling out of the metal beast. Gerard merely holds up his closed fist, and all of the objects freeze mid air. They hover there uselessly, until he unclenches and the objects free-fall onto the mat. 

"Very good!" Dr. Saporta smiles, clapping. He says something unintelligible to Gerard, patting his shoulder. Gerard smiles and nods, heading back over to the edge of the mat. He spots me and jogs over. 

"Hey! You're the guy from the hallway. Frank right?" Fuck, he's pretty. Wait- what?

"Y-yeah." My voice trembles and I mentally punch myself in the face. "And you're Gerard?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

His face lights up like a puppy with a new chew toy. "Yeah!" 

"That was really cool- I mean, what you did out there." I wave my hand vaguely toward the mat.

"Thanks." We pause our conversation to watch Bob on the mat and the millions of tiny sharp objects bouncing off his steel body. "Wish I could do that though." 

I snort. "Yeah, me too." 

I can feel Gerard's eyes on me, and I turn to meet them. "You wanna come over to my room after this? Maybe watch a movie?" He asks, twisting the same loose fabric from before.

I stare at his face, unable to form words. My mouth opens and closes, and I finally make out the word "sure." 

The smile that erupts on Gerard's face could cure cancer. He bounces on his toes, "Sweet!" 

I smile and we watch Ray take the mat. 

 

*

My blood is practically boiling by the time it's my turn to take the mat. Gerard gives my shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and I step forward to face Dr. Saporta. 

He smiles brightly down at me. "And what is your specialty, Mr. Iero?"

"Um, Intangibility and Invisibility, sir." I stammer. 

Saporta is practically glowing. "Ahh, atom manipulation! My favorite!" He skips back over to the machine like a giant four year old, and looks at me expectantly. "Whenever you're ready." 

I stare at the machine in front of me. What might come out of those giant metal jaws? What if I don't react in time? I swallow the lump in my throat and tightly nod. 

I hear the click of the button, and the machine roars to life. Out of the mouth of the beast comes a soaring spear headed directly for my stomach. I clench my fists and squeeze my eyes shut. I can feel the atoms that make up my belly buzzing and shifting, the sensation growing out to my every limb. The atoms break off and separate, my body looking ghostly transparent. The pole passes harmlessly through me, and clatters loudly behind me as it hits the floor. The atoms reattach themselves to one another, vibrating happily. I unclench my fists and open my eyes. 

"Aw, c'mon Iero! I know you can do better than that." Saporta strides over and grabs both of my shoulders. "You have a gift. A really important gift. Don't hide from danger, force it away from you. Target the atoms and molecules all around you. Make them protect you."

He nods at me feverishly, but I look down at my shaking fingers. "Kind of hard when a machine keeps throwing sharp objects at your face." 

Saporta huffs and jogs back over to the equipment. He rummages through a box, producing a harmless basketball. He runs back over and stands a few feet in front of me. "I'm going to chuck this basketball at your face. Don't hide from it. Force it away. Concentrate, and protect yourself. Whenever you're ready." 

I look at the ball, taken aback. I shrug halfheartedly and concentrate on the buzzing of the atoms in my extended hand. Something clicks, and I can feel more buzzing. I can feel the molecules in the air, and the atoms vibrating across the room that make up Dr. Saporta. The range extends, and I can hear a soft buzzing in the lights above me. The hum turns into a high pitched frequency, and I wince. It sounds like the lights are screeching at me, like I'm somewhere I don't belong. I can hear Saporta's voice, telling me to concentrate on him, but the screeching keeps getting louder and louder. I clench my fists to my ears and I hear a loud pop. I'm shoved out of the way by an unknown force, and I hear glass colliding with the mat. 

I come to with my back pressed to the mat and Saporta standing over me, his white wings extended outward on each side of him. "You alright, kid?" I nod as he helps me to my feet.

I look up cautiously, expecting the light to start screaming again. The light is completely shattered, it's remains in a pile on the mat where I was once standing. "What happened?"

"Your ability has a minor setback; it doesn't agree with electrical appliances. Don't mess with electrons, kid." He smiles and pushes me down into a chair. I look up confused, but then I feel the rush of blood coming out of my nose. Gerard comes over and hands me a napkin. I wipe at my nose and it comes away crimson. 

I lean back in the chair. I'm exhausted. 

 

 

*

By the time everyone is finished, I'm about ready to pass out. I get up out of my chair to go change, but my legs have been replaced by rubber. Gerard catches me by the arm before I can hit the ground, and helps me into the locker room. 

"You okay to stand?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you." I give him a tight smile and head off to change. 

 

*

I feel trapped without my uniform. The clothing on my body hangs uselessly, and I tug on it in frustration. I grab my things and begin to head out of the arena. I hear footsteps from behind me and Gerard appears at my side. 

"So, still wanna see that movie?" 

"Oh! Yeah, I totally forgot. Sorry." My face turns an embarrassing shade of pink. How could I forget? I nervously tug on my collar and offer him a smile.

"Great! I'm thinking zombies. You like zombies?" Gerard turns to me expectantly, his face practically glowing. 

"Yeah! Zombies rock." We turn the corner and stop in front of a door with a big number 46 on it. 

Gerard fights with the lock and we step inside. The dorm is bigger than I imagined, and a lot messier than most. Discarded clothes lay hopelessly on the floor, and there's a mini fridge in the corner with comic books stacked on top of it. A simple TV sits at the foot of the bed, with movies stacked at its side.

"You can just put your things on the floor and sit down on the bed." Gerard looks busy trying to tidy up the place, picking up clothes and shoving them into the empty hamper. 

I sit down on the batman bed sheets, and scoot back to prop myself up on the headboard. Gerard finishes and picks a movie from the stack. He shoves it into the DVD player and strides over to the fridge.

"Wanna beer?" His voice says from inside the fridge. 

"Uh, yeah, sure." I've never really drank before. I didn't really have the time. Oh well, first time for everything. 

Gerard emerges with a 12 pack of beer. He chuckles when he notices my facial expression. "Sorry, it's a little much." He sits down next to me and passes me one. The cold soothes my fingertips, and I pop open the can. 

"Cheers." Gerard says, and we clank our beers together. I take a sip and try to hide the disgust on my face. Gerard catches it and laughs. The laugh takes over his whole body, and he almost spills his beer. "You get used to it." I smile around the liquid in my mouth and swallow. 

Well, this night's going to be interesting. 

 

*

Six, seven, or maybe even eight beers later, we're laughing and throwing cuss words at the poorly executed zombies on the screen. Gerard popped us some popcorn, but it all went to waste as we threw it at the TV in frustration. A girl gets a chunk bitten out of her neck and I throw more popcorn, vaguely aware that I miss by a mile. I blink rapidly, trying to get the room to stay in one place.

My head spins and I roll my head onto Gerard's shoulder. "Hey, Gee. I think 'm really fucking drunk." I slur. 

Gerard laughs and takes the bowl of popcorn from my shaking hands. "Gimme this before you make even more of a mess."

He gets up from the bed and I topple over from the lack of support. The sudden shift of gravity makes the contents in my stomach stir. "Gee, I'm gonna- bathroom." I throw myself from the bed but I don't make it two feet before I'm flat on my face. 

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Gerard stoops and helps me up. We wobble into the bathroom where I collapse in front of the toilet, immediately emptying the contents in my stomach. Gerard kneels next to me and rubs circles on my back. "You alright?" 

I give a shaky thumbs up and hurl again. "'M fine." 

"Ima go get you some water, okay?" I rest my chin on the rim of the toilet and nod tightly.

Gerard appears again and I struggle to lift my head. I reach for the glass but he swats my hand away. "I got it." The rim of the cup meets my lips and he tilts it slightly. I drink the water greedily and lean back against the wall once it's all gone. 

Gerard sets the cup on the counter. "We should get you back to your room." 

"Party pooper." I say, but I don't refuse as he helps me to my feet. My head feels like someone shoved it through a wall of glass. I sling my bag over my shoulder and wrap my free arm around Gerard. 

The hallway is dimly lit, and we struggle to find the right turn. We start heading down what I think is the right corridor, but all of them look the same. I've stumbled for the millionth time when we finally reach my dorm room. I hand Gerard the key, and we head inside. 

Gerard takes my bag off my aching shoulder and drapes it across a chair. I try to slip out of my shirt, but it gets caught around my elbows. 

"Here. Lemme help." Gerard shoves the shirt the rest of the way off, and I shuffle over to my drawer in search of a new one.

I feel the piercing feeling of eyes on me and my eyes widen. I look down at my body half expecting the scars to magically not be there, but there they are, clear as day. I swallow hard and try to act normal as I slip on a Black Flag shirt to replace the old one. I turn around slowly, meeting Gerard's eyes for a brief second before he looks away, studying the walls a little too hard.

I clear my throat. "That was fun. Sorry for, uh, throwing up and all." I wave my hand awkwardly.

"Yeah. We should do it again sometime." He grins, and I return it. I stagger over to my bed, laying down and almost missing it completely if Gerard hadn't been there to push me the rest of the way. 

Gerard giggles and throws the covers over my chest. "I feel like I'm taking care of a five year old." 

"Fuck you." I say, wiggling under the blanket to get comfortable.

Gerard walks over to stand in the door way and turns back around to face me. "See ya tomorrow?" 

I nod tiredly. "Nighty night, Gee."

Gerard's grin is the last thing I see before my heavy eyes slip closed. 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Hello darkness, my old friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Sorry I haven't been able to do a proper update. School is taking up my time, so some of the chapters will come in parts until I can upload chapters fully. I appreciate all the compliments I've gotten, they encourage me to keep writing! Hope you like the story so far!

The cold afternoon air grips my bones as I stand impatiently in line. I tap my foot angrily, and when I finally get to the front I accept my daily ration of bread anxiously and practically sprint back into the building. I stare down at the food in my hands, guilt coursing through my body at the longing stares of the hungry people I pass. I always get an extra ration of bread because I am subjected to experimentation. Still, I do not feel lucky.

I shuffle over to the corner of the room, where James is curled up right where I left him. I slide down the wall beside him, and drop both pieces of bread into his lap. He doesn't even seem to notice. I shake his bony shoulder gently, "James?" I whisper quietly. He jumps and finally processes my existence. He searches my face, startled, and I nod down at the food in his lap. He touches the bread gingerly, as if expecting it to magically disappear. "You can have both. I'm not hungry." I give him a warm smile as he whispers a careful 'thank you' and takes a bite.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, studying his deathly pale face.

He stops chewing and looks at me anxiously. "Scared."

I nod. "Me too."

I let him eat and I look around the makeshift cafeteria. A young girl sits in the far corner with her head in her lap, her food forgotten at her feet. At the other side, two guards clad in black are harassing a skinny young boy. The boy tries to scoot away from them, but the wall keeps him put. I tear my eyes angrily away and out the window into the courtyard. Snow is beginning to fall from the grey clouds above. I smile longingly; snow reminds me of home. My thoughts are interrupted by the deadly cough that rips through James' body. I pat his back gently, wincing at the sound echoing through the room. I look up hesitantly and find people staring. Some of them look sad, others accusing. An old man with greying hair looks me dead in the eyes and grins. He drags a bony finger across his throat horizontally, and I swallow hard. James finally stops coughing, and I pull his head down to rest on my shoulder.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear him whimpering against my collarbone. "We're gonna be okay."

My blood turns ice cold as the familiar siren sounds throughout the whole camp. People rise unsteadily to their feet, being pushed harshly towards the door and out into the courtyard. I get up shakily, and kneel down to help James to his feet. I rest my hand on the small of his back, and tense as we pass through the doors surprisingly unharmed. My heart is banging against my rib cage, begging for escape. I reach down and squeeze James' hand as we all fall in line in front of the head officer. I look down at my feet, not wanting to meet his cold gaze. He walks down the line of people, stopping every once in a while to study a select few. He gets to me and my heart stops. I stare so hard at my shoes I think they might burst into flames when he moves on to stand in front of James. I squeeze my eyes shut, my lungs burning from lack of air.

He nods tightly. "This one, and the two in the front."

I tear my eyes away from my shoes and watch the guards descend on the people he chose. A guard advances on James, and I react without thinking. I step in his path, my eyes pleading with the officer. "No, no please don't. _Please."_ The guard doesn't even seem to acknowledge my existence and shoves me aside. I collide with the ground as another officer joins the first. They grab each of his arms, and start to carry him away. I clamber back onto my feet and stumble after them. "James!" I scream. Someone grabs hold of my right wrist and I rip it out of their grasp. They continue to drag him swiftly away, his feet limply dragging against the dirt and accumulating snow. I try to take off running, but I don't make it two steps before I feel the sharp pain of a club connecting with the back of my skull. The world turns into a mixture of black coats and white snow, and the next thing I know I'm on the ground. I try to crawl forward, but something presses firmly into my back. I watch the guards carry my best friend away into an unknown building and I slip into unconsciousness. 

 

*

A voice is pleading with me to wake up, but I can't seem to find the strength to open my eyes. I try to remember that it was only a dream, but I can still feel the snow against my fingertips. I shove the memory away with what strength I have left, and I force my eyes open. More tears roll onto my already wet cheeks as I take in Bob's frightened face. He sighs in relief and wraps me up in his arms. The air inside my throat catches and I let out a choked sob.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again." He squeezes me tighter, and I nod against his shoulder.  

I sniffle and lick my chapped lips. "What happened?" 

"You were screaming and I couldn't get you to wake the fuck up." He pulls away to search my face. "It's like you were trapped in a little world inside your head." 

I nod halfheartedly. "Oh." 

"Don't "oh" me. You scared the shit out of me." Bob's lips press into a thin line, thinking. "I can't keep doing this for you, bud. You have to get help." 

"I have a hangover." I say, desperately trying to change the subject. 

Bob laughs coldly. "Well, glad to see you're feeling better already." I smile warmly and let my head fall back onto his shoulder. "I could let Professor know you're not feeling well if you don't feel up for class today." 

I shake my head. "Nah, I'll be fine." 

He nods. "Drink lots of water, alright? I'll see ya at lunch." I nod and he squeezes my shoulder. 

Bob closes the door after he leaves and I throw on some new clothes. I stare at myself in the dirty bathroom mirror. My hair is tucked up in all the wrong places, and the bags under my eyes are a light shade of purple. I splash some water on my face, brush my teeth, and trudge out the door wishing I could just stay in my room and sleep all day. 

 

*

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there!  
> My name's Taylor and this is the first fic I've actually decided to dedicate myself to. That being said, I have no idea where this is going, but I hope its going in the right direction. I have a ton of ideas for this, and I'm excited to put them into play and see what you all think! This is also my first time on Archive, so hopefully this doesn't become a disaster. Bear with me. Thanks for reading! xo


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